


08 December

by TheBee



Series: The Bee's 2014 Advent Calendar [8]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Multi-Era, References to Character Death, references to other Doctors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2747033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBee/pseuds/TheBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven knows HOW she got here is important. Possibly more important than why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	08 December

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting the 8th's advent. My internet connection was down. So you get two tonight!  
> POV: Eleventh Doctor (Smith’s)  
> WARNING: The Doctor's never polite to himself, when he bumps into himself. And when he's stuck around himself, he resorts to rude names. I'd apologize for the Doctor-on-Doctor bashing, but it's in character.  
> Unbeta'd

_Why, yes. Why is important. But how? How is vital. There’s a how, which is much more important than a why. Not just why a Tyler-Noble has come from Pete’s World, but how?_

“And how did you get here?” he asked his metacrisis daughter. Her face swiveled his way. “That’s a dimension jumper. It shouldn’t work. And if I know myself, which I do, even when I’m him”—he pointed off to Sandshoes—“or your father, the first thing I would have done was decommission that Dimension Cannon your mum was using.”

“Our TARDIS,” she said. “Since she’s a budding off of your TARDIS, they’re essentially twins. Separated by a half a million years… but twins. Ever since Dad died, Al’s been scanning”—she broke off. “Look, can we go to the console room?”

He glanced at his previous and next selves. They’re in his next self’s TARDIS, so it’s up to Mr. New Regeneration Cycle to lead the way. That’s the way he’s always operated, whenever he runs into himself. Oldest self takes the lead.

“Fine,” his next self states, lips twisted sourly. “This way.”

They head toward the console room. He can hear the TARDIS singing softly in his mind. The hallways don’t look much different, but he wonders if the console room has changed much. He wonders if he’ll like it.

_Likely not. But I refuse to be the one who says it. Let Sandshoes do it._


End file.
